


Your Despair, My Suffering

by Lancer_9



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Background Hinata Hajime, Background Nanami Chiaki, Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Cigarettes, Death, Despair, Enoshima Junko Being Enoshima Junko, F/F, Gun Violence, Hope, Hope vs. Despair, Hope's Peak Academy, Ikusaba Mukuro-centric, Light Masochism, Mercenaries, Middle East, Psychological Trauma, Sex, Smoking, Swearing, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-10-06 10:49:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20505740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lancer_9/pseuds/Lancer_9
Summary: Mukuro Ikusaba does not dream of Hope, neither does she really, truly yearn for Despair in this quagmire of a broken world.





	1. Rainy Day, Hope's Peak

The rain was pouring heavily on the outside of the Hope's Peak Academy campus. There was not a single, happy moving creature visible on the outside of the Academy's main entrance door. This evening was looking as gloomy, as uneventful as it could possibly get of all the evenings of the rainy season. From the corner of one's eye, a homeless dog can be seen hidden underneath a large tree, trying to vigorously shake the wetness out of it's body. A familiar mauve-colored head holding a umbrella passes with haste through the road, giggling and holding hands together with a necktie-wearing plain shirted guy with a perpetual bed head. They hail a taxi, and quickly get in together, driving into the unknown. Mukuro Ikusaba continues looking up front through the heavy rain. or a while, savoring the chaotic yet somewhat tranquil vision in front of her. Few minutes later on, she reaches out for her chest pocket and grabs a cigarette packet of her favorite make. These are not too strong, like the ones they use to smoke in Hokkaido, and at the same time they don't have this ugly aftertaste, like the ones popular in Indonesia. Ikusaba ponders for a while about the different makes and tastes of cigarette, before she starts patting and checking her trousers' pockets for something with dissatisfaction slowly forming on her face.

She utters under her nose:

_“Fuck, once again I've forgotten the lighter...”_


	2. Desert Despair

A sharp knife to the jugular vein sends down a brutish mercenary to his death. Blood splashes all over the room. It splashes on the Ultimate Soldier's gloved hands, blood even drips from the plate carrier vest onto the wooden floor. The female soldier's combat boots make a distinctive, bone-chilling noise as she walks forwards with confidence over the puddles of blood and fallen carcasses of her enemies. The room, which could have been just an another, easily inhabitable room like any other now reeks of cordite, of burned flesh and sinews, lives cut down too fast and broken dreams. It was war without any boundaries. Somewhere deep in the back of the room, a woman clad in white rushes towards the metal exit door. The woman mustered all of her remaining strength to force it open as tears dripped down from her cheeks. Unsurprisingly, it yielded, and the desert sun poured inside, blinding her. At the same moment, a circling overhead helicopter gunship's auto-cannon pulverized her. The storm of bullets first severs her head, and later on maims the rest of the body. An another person, this time a man clad in black with a face veil suspiciously rustles his hands over his robes. He takes out an old, rusty-looking Eastern European handgun and proceeds to shoot himself in the in the head with it. The cartridge wasn't that strong enough to fully penetrate the skull, he'll bleed out to death soon, once again experiencing more unnecessary suffering. Ikusaba finally reaches her goal after carefully maneuvering over the corpses as not to trip and fall down. The last remaining goal of this operation was laying crouched, cowering, with hands covering the head in pure horror and shock. It was a boy, no, it could have been a young man of military age. The scarf was obscuring his face so it was hard to tell for the Ultimate Soldier. In a way, it was a potentially dangerous individual should he be left alive. Luckily for that occurrence, the contract's details didn't stipulate the need for the preservation of lives of non-combatants. 

_“This is is all... so despair-inducing.”_

The Ultimate Soldier states bluntly before pulling the trigger and cracking open another target's skull.

  
A soldier, clad in desert BDUs, with a black balaclava comes inside the room. His tan-colored combat googles glistened in the sun, the black balaclava contrasted with the also tan-colored baseball cap. He says, with a hint of a Scottish accent:

  
_“Oi, so you are the... Murky Ibakusa, was it? You are the latest addition the Fenrir has sent us?”_

He pauses for a few seconds, looking at the carnage in the room.

_“I don't know from which unit or background you are, but it looks like the Wolves weren't mistaken about you, Murky girl. I really do hope you'll be on board with us for future ops, too.”_

The Scottish fellow lets out a nervous chuckles, as if trying to humor the Ultimate Soldier, who was now looking at him with an expressionless face while blood was still on her clothes and combat equipments.

The modern world had probably never witnessed so much despair as one can find among the ruins in this Godforsaken desert.


	3. Hotel Despair

Ikusaba could not have been happier as she was right now, standing in front of an entrance to a luxurious hotel in downtown Tokyo. The streets weren't as crowded as they usually are, thanks to it being an evening and the winter atmosphere being so off-putting for long stays on the outside. The automatic door opened before her. A female receptionist greeted her and together they exchanged typical, simple Japanese pleasantries and small talk. After the short time of halcyon days, the receptionist picks up something from behind her desk. It is a letter, decorated in a minimalistic style and with “Mukuro Ikusaba” written in front with ink that looked like it was stamped on using a old Japanese typewriter. The letter is handed to the soldier and she takes it without saying a word. The soldier and the receptionist then part their ways. Ikusaba then decides to take the elevator rather than the stairs, with travel bags starting to weight a little on her after a whole day of action. 

For a while, time appears to have stopped, as the elevator takes ages to go to the last floor, the direction in which she is now headed towards. This small window of quietness invited her to look at the letter she was now holding in front of her. The question now arises within the mind of the Ultimate Soldier of whether the open or to not to open the letter now, given that the sender appears to be anonymous. The content of the letter could have been anything. A shy love letter written by one of her compatriots from the days and ops spend in the desert who weirdly is still alive today. It could be a small dose of anthrax, enough for a painful and relatively noiseless death. If anything, it could have been even some useless letter written by one of the graduates from the Hope's Peak Academy, an invitation for a “Hope's Peak Class Reunion” or some other useless bullshit. The elevator finally stops, having reached the desired floor. She calmingly stepped forward, holding the travels bags in hand while the elevator gently closes behind her. She mentally reminds herself of which apartment suite she is supposed to go to now. After a moment of walking through the silent, lit corridors with the night Tokyo skyline visible through the windows Ikusaba finally lets her curiosity overwhelm her and she puts down her bags and opens the letter.

The envelope falls down on the floor while the letter is held by her strong, steady hands as her pupils start to dilate a little. A familiar smell of perfume reaches her nostrils and a collection of different memories and sensations saturates the mind of Mukuro Ikusaba, the Ultimate Soldier. Images and recollections of things such as: glitter hair roots, hair bows, ribbons, blue eyes, long lashes, crowns, chokers, magazine clips, rotary phones, miniskirts, plaid, corsages, heart boxes of chocolates suddenly appear in the mind of Ikusaba. If anyone would be present at this moment in the corridor, it would seems as she looked rather relaxed, perhaps even elated at whatever there was written in that letter. Her stance changed from that of a combat ready gunslinger to a more relaxed one. Her face exhibiting a genuine smile, eyes shining with joy and a perhaps even a little hint of... desire. 

Ikusaba hastily pushes the letter inside one of her clothes' pockets, grabs the travel bags again and is finally standing in front of the desired apartment suite door. A few quick series of inhaling through the nose and exhaling through the mouth calming exercises happen. This ought to work for now. She grabs the door handle with her right hand and twists open the door, oddly enough it wasn't even locked. The apartment suite was inhabited as the light was shining inside it, although it appeared to be a little dimmed down. In front of her, in the center of the room there was a queen-sized bed designed in an oddly enticing kitschy way. It was heart-shaped, and the overall design reminded Ikusaba of something one ought to witness while playing some risque minigame of a mindfuck visual novel. She decided to mentally kick away those pesky and useless thoughts and to focus on the situation developing in front of her. The figure which was sitting in the middle of the bed, legs crossed as in a mediation posture was of paramount importance to Mukuro Ikusaba. The long, luscious strawberry blonde hair, splayed behind the figure. The knee high boots with crimson red shoelaces and high heels that look a bit uncomfortable for wear for a long period of time. A loosely tied, black-and-white necktie with a distinctive null symbol rested in between of the figure's bountiful chest, directing Ikusaba's gaze towards the breasts that were bigger than hers, eliciting a even more despairful look of lust on the Ultimate Soldier's face to the point it was becoming increasingly hard for her to regain the usual stoic composure. Crimson red, carefully manicured talons on the figure's hands, joined together in a calming meditative pose. The figure's bare skin, sans the boots and the necktie standed out a lot on this red bed, giving out a even more alluring vibe that was hard to describe in words for the Ultimate Soldier. It was a picture-perfect sight to behold. The eyes were closed, or rather, they were half-open in the meditative posture. Flawless makeup and a beautiful face, a trademark of the person worthy of being a bearer of that title. 

It was a face oh so familiar and beloved to the Ultimate Soldier.


	4. A Night to Remember, A Night to Forget. A Night to Re/Forget

The Ultimate Soldier's face blushes red, deep red, perhaps crimson red even due to desire that slowly overwhelms her. The feeling that accompanied her was hard to be put into words. It was close to what can one imagine of a scene a soldier returning back to his or her beloved person after a long, gruesome deployment in a war zone. That, except her and the woman sitting in front of her were fraternal twin sisters. As depressing, repulsive as ugly it may seem, in Japan, consensual sexual relations between adults who are related by blood, incest isn't illegal by Japanese law standards. Also, it was not their first together in such a situation though almost every time it happened Ikusaba could feel a slight pang of guilt, a weird feeling tucked deep inside the untouched trenches of her head that stated it all could have been different. The loneliness and all encompassing feeling of despair could have not been the fate of the Ultimate Soldier, had she perhaps disobeyed her younger twin sister's orders or had sought some sort of counseling from the Hope's Peak Academy staff. Nevertheless, she decided to mentally kick away those pesky and useless thoughts and to focus on the situation developing in front of her.

Mukuro Ikusaba swiftly undid the buttons on her white shirt and took off her trousers. The trousers she wore were jeans, but sewn by an American company intended for the “tactical deployments” for soldiers or operatives in conditions where ruggedness and extra mag pockets were required but without the eye-catching details of camouflage patterns. Underneath the clothes there was laid bare a female body not so different from her twin sister's. It was definitely more muscular around the torso area, slightly bruised with small scars and other marks that stood as sign of prowess and effectiveness from her countless deployments overseas. At the Hope's Peak Academy, she was used to wearing a plain black skirt together with a white shirt. This made her look incredibly plain in stark contrast to Junko Enoshima's ever fashionable, provocative and sexy look.

After a while and now free from the constrains of her clothing, Ikusaba decided to join the Ultimate Fashionista on the bed. The fragrance of the other twin's distinctive perfumes slowly crept into the mind of Soldier through her nostrils. She had decided to sit in front of the Ultimate Fashionista, trying to mimic the younger twin's meditative sitting posture with moderate success. After a moment of silence in which the only sound perhaps the two twins could her was their own heart beating faster Enoshima had decided to finally open her eyes, wide. Junko uttered some words in her typical voice that sounded like a mix between a generic schoolgirl-like response from some Anime and a voice from a psychopathic killer that has began to stalk their prey. She said:

_“Muku-nee, welcome back. We have waited for so long for thee!”_

The voice, her voice now transformed into something of an accent that some English royalty from a period drama would have spoken with in a formal conversation setting. Except this time, the messaged was a bit garbled by Enoshima's try-hard attempt at forcing out a coherent English sentence, a language that she understood as well as she had the feeling of empathy inside her. She looked and acted like a queen, a queen of despair. That, and she was without her crown, a crucial prop that appears when Enoshima's personality switches over to her queen-like one.

There wasn't much spoken after that, no words that induced despair or grandiose talks about the eternal forces which divide the world and to which the Hope's Peak Academy is the everlasting battleground of. Junko Enoshima had switched over from her meditative posture and had laid back on the soft bed. She began to slowly and with allure spread her legs before the Ultimate Soldier. She revealed her womanhood, free of any pubic hair. Ikusaba could had sworn, that with the popularity and influence the Ultimate Fashionista has she must have already got a flock of men wanting to spend some quality time with her. A flock that perhaps ranged from the yuppies of downtown Tokyo's night clubs to the soldiers of the Nerima garrison quarters, the Ultimate Fashionista could have already engaged in countless sexual endeavors or other illicit activities with zero impunity. Yet, there wasn't much of a thought in Ikusaba's mind that she wasn't the only object of desire in Enoshima's wicked and cruel mind.

Ikusaba begin to passionately kiss and lick her younger twin sister's womanhood while her rugged hands rested on her younger sister's thighs and gently caressed them in unison. Enoshima moaned receptively to her sister's mouth, small words of encouragement left her younger sister's with further fueled the sinful lust in Ikusaba's heart and body. The kiss and licking continued for a while, before Ikusaba decided that she was not satisfied with this one-side pleasuring and stopped abruptly. Before Enoshima could raise her head up to see why she shad stopped, the older twin quickly pounced on her, trapping her model-like hands with her muscular ones and straddling her sister in a tribbing position. Rapidly, Ikusaba couldn't hold back herself any longer, she passionately kissed Enoshima on her lips while they both began rubbing their womanhood's against each other. They continued like this for several minutes, both lost in their ecstasy. After this session of lust and sin has passed, Ikusaba felt a feeling of tiredness slowly creeping into the Soldier's mind. She fell asleep, laying next to her twin sister, the Ultimate Fashionista who was also asleep with a almost permanent fixture of a wicked grin on her face, a sign that she was satisfied with her older twin sister, the Ultimate Soldier's performance this night.

**Author's Note:**

> My first ever work of fiction uploaded on the AOO3, finally updated and finished after being in limbo for a while. In this work I tried to stick close to the canon personalities of Danganronpa characters while at the same time trying to portray Ikusaba in more of a "a soldier returning home from war" kind of situation rather than the usual Hope vs. Despair fight.
> 
> For a first AOO3 submission, I think the general gist of it was attained and my next works I will strive to improve and diversify my writing.


End file.
